


A Piece of Home

by seaofcolour



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, Age Difference, F/M, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Space Condoms, also, also theres no gendered language, basically you bang starlord cause youre lonely and you both miss earth, peter likes being called starlord A Lot, reader can be mostly a self insert with a little bit of personality/backstory, sort of theres a little bit of plot, thats a tag now, written because theres a serious lack of quill porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaofcolour/pseuds/seaofcolour
Summary: "Hey," you said."Hey," he replied."You got any music?"His little smile grew into an earsplitting grin "Hell yea do I got music."





	A Piece of Home

**Author's Note:**

> Basically you're a human getting by in space and you encounter a guardian of the galaxy who you learn you have more in common with than you thought. You share music and a nice night. 
> 
> For the Full Immersive Experience, play a bunch of 70s tunes and disperse laundry throughout your room. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

You were 19 when you were abducted from earth by a Ravager faction. In a flash of light (and a clumsy jolt of electricity) your life went from high school student with a less than glimmering future to stowaway, runaway, refugee, survivalist, thief... lost in space.

For three years, although you couldn't be certain, this was your life. Like humans do, you made the best of it, forced yourself to adapt. Stole your way to self sufficiency after escaping the group of Ravagers that nabbed you in the first place, made your home in the tiny ship you found and patched on what you could only refer to as a "garbage dump planet". More like earth in a few years, you thought.

As much as you missed home there were a few things keeping you from going back: one being, you honestly didn't know how. While you could pilot your little rust-bucket just fine and even hop from jump point to jump point with enough stored energy, you had no idea how to navigate the great expanse of the galaxy. You could theoretically get there but by the time you got away from your original captors you were completely disoriented. You had no one to teach you so you were learning things by yourself every day. And sometimes, at night when you found yourself getting lost in the beauty of the stars, new to you every time you looked at them, you knew you didn't _want_ to go back.

It had it's ups and downs. You were essentially doing the scifi equivalent of "living out of your van" and that came with the benefits of immense freedom but also the drawbacks of "I'm living in a 7 by 10 hunk of garbage" that you might expect. And one of those drawbacks was that shit broke. Fast. You got near constant use out of a ship that was almost certainly never meant to be used again which meant that you had to steal, frequently, and all over the place. Today, with no warning, the airlock broke and suddenly where there was once air there was an aggressive, cold, nothing. Luckily you learned this lesson in the past and instinctively slammed your hand over your suit button, the cool comforting barrier encircling you as you gasped for breath.

Cursing through your teeth you navigated the two-timing piece-of-shit ship to the nearest port colony on a rather striking purple planet. Asteroid? Big rock. Once you pushed through the artificial atmosphere you clicked off the power on your suit. You sighed, embarrassed, as the little hunk of metal skidded ungracefully all the way down the right side of the docking station, screeching all the way, until it hit the end with a clang. You kicked your pile of laundry as you slammed the door control and hopped out. The hydraulics on the airlock were acting up last week and you cursed yourself for not getting it fixed then.

After a couple conversations with some parts dealers you resigned to the fact that neither of them had what you needed right now and that you were just going to have to wait here until they did. And until they did you decided to do something you rarely got a chance to do: socialize. When you stole most things you owned the only brand of socialization you got tended to be more on the side of "stop, get back here you little shit!" and the occasional bout of gun fire.

You picked the smallest, loudest establishment in the area and crammed yourself in alongside the colourful cast of patrons enjoying themselves in the little hole-in-the-wall. The walls were a composite of materials throughout the ages, no chairs matched. There was what looked to be an android serving drinks and food and _holy shit were those fries._ Were those honest to goodness French Fries made of actual real potatoes because they sure looked like them. They sure fucking looked like them to you. You flagged the waitress down, forked over 10 units and found yourself with, what looked, smelled, and tasted like, genuine french fries. You could've nearly cried. Who knew you'd miss food from earth so much.

As much as you wanted to just tip the basket into your mouth, you savoured them, clambering into a back corner table and nibbling on them bit by bit. Despite your original plan to socialize your frustration away you ended up falling into the old habit of shutting out the world at large with your headphones and the precious few songs you saved on your phone, lost in your own smaller inner world. The salty, greasy, crispy paired well with some gentle, melodic swing, blaring loud enough to fill the confines of your skull. You always liked soft music played loud.

The next thing you knew there was a hand tapping your shoulder, bursting the delicate bubble of your reverie. The next thing after _that_ you knew your knife was out and pressed to the offending wrist, entirely on reflex. The figure jumped back, hands raised in bemused surprise. You looked up to see what looked like, for all intents and purposes, a human face. "Fuck, I'm sorry-" you stuttered out as your knife slipped from your hand. Flustered, you scrambled to grab it as the man next to you chuckled to himself at your antics. You paused your music with shaky hands, slipping your headphones around your neck.

"Hey, no, it's cool! I totally get it dude, I'm sorry for startling you. Not my intent at all, promise." When you had composed yourself you met his smiling eyes as he reached out to shake your hand which you allowed him to do. "My name's Peter. Sorry to ruin your night, it seemed like you were having a really good time over here with your fries." He gestured to the tiny seat across from you, cramming himself into it at your nod of permission. Wait did he say fries. You shrugged mentally. Maybe Xandarians had fries too. You had encountered weirder uncanniness.

"I'm _____. Sorry, I don't usually do a lot of mingling, I'm a little out of practice." He nodded thoughtfully, putting his messenger bag on the table next to your phone and snacks. He also reached out and just.. took some fries, munching on them with a look on his face like he was trying really hard to figure something out.

"Hey, so, uh.." he swallowed, "Whatcha got there?" His voice jumped a little, like he was asking a serious question, motioning to your phone and the connected headphones. You took them off from around your neck, sliding both devices across the table for him to inspect. While he looked them over you got your second take of him, more detailed without the added adrenaline. He had short, wavy blonde hair like a kid on the back of a cereal box, and wore a deep red leather jacket. This man had the air of someone that would have been content living a quiet life but got the short end of the stick of fate. His friendly and warm personality occasionally tamed by a careful smooth and quick mannerism here and there. Like his persona was something he worked at to create and perfect. He was older than you but his eyes were bright and wondrous. This guy, Peter, was.. something uncomfortably close to attractive, and you distracted yourself playing with the hem of your bag. You decided to let him share your fries.

"My phone. It used to do all sorts of things but nowadays it's just for music. Or it can be a calculator but that's not as fun." You attempted a smile back but you were almost anxious that your rusty, largely unused smile wouldn't come close to his warm, cheerful one. His eyes narrowed a bit as he turned it over in his hands, expression turning almost.. sad? Wistful? His blunt fingers carefully removed the jack from the phone, looking at that too, before plugging it back in and handing it back over to you. You took it and set it down before taking another handful of fries, Peter mimicking across the table. The thrum of people and something you thought might be music pulsed around you both.

He opened his mouth to speak but faltered, coughing and swallowing before finding the right words and trying again. "_____.. You're not uh.. you're not from Earth by any chance, are you?"

Your felt your heart leap into your throat. "I.. what? How did you.. why do you," your mouth hung agape, "How could you _tell_? Most people think Im Xanadrian like you but I-"

His voice cut in before you could finish and he leaned over the table and beamed like he was hearing the best news of his life, "I'm not Xandarian either, I'm Terran! I'm from Earth too! Holy shit! How did you get out here? Are there more like you? What are you even doing out here!!" he was standing now, elated, nearly shouting. His body jutted out towards you over the table, like he couldn't bear to be further away and you realized you were standing too, clutching your headphones, your heart fluttering like an injured bird. You never in your life thought you would meet another human out here. You _never_ thought you would see anything from earth again let alone an entire, friendly person, a living piece of your home. Realization dawned that he was probably going through the exact same thing. You nearly thought you saw tears welling up in his eyes but couldn't be sure before the two of you were hugging it out over the little table, laughing and hiccuping.

After a few moments of cathartic, warm, human contact you both pulled away and grabbed your stuff, chatting and laughing all the way outside. "I have so much to tell you man! You say you left in 88 right? The world's a different place."

He smiled his warm, sweet smile again. "I bet! Hey, they make any more Star Wars?"

"Boy did they make more Star Wars," You chuckled and kicked up pebbles as you walked the mostly quiet streets with this former stranger. It felt like you had already been friends for years. He had offered to tow you to Nova Prime with him to get your part and you were immensely grateful but you figured you might as well have some fun here before you left. At the second bar you stopped in on you asked "why Nova" and he tells you the rest of his crew are there on various errands and excursions. You asked why he came all the way out here and you both knock back the last of your drinks and head back out.

"...Probably for the same reason you were in there," he admitted. "That's pretty much the only place to get actual fries this side of the galaxy," he grinned timidly, scratching the back of his neck as he strode around a corner with you.

"You're shitting me," you jab back, elbowing him gently. You both laugh. You legitimately haven't been this happy since you ended up in space in the first place.

He asks emphatically about what's changed, what's new back on earth. You think hard and tell him "different scene, same drama", tell him about some new technology, some pop culture, what some singers he mentioned to you ended up doing.

When you start to near the port itself again his face lights up and he grabs your hand, stage whispering, "I have something to show you." He leads you to his ship after that, looking proud and excited. It's a shining blue and orange number with wings like a bird, clean lines, no rust. You almost drool.

He puffs out his chest next to you, hands in his belt loops and a proud smirk on his face. "The _Milano_. Ain't she pretty."

"Looks like a Ravager ship," you remark, "Those were the assholes that took me in the first place." You put a little warmth into the tone of your voice to let him know you didn't mean anything by it. You figured he maybe used to work with them but his stuff was too unique by this point to be regulation anymore.

He gave a half hearted chuckle in response, like he was going to say something but decided not to. The two of you got your clunker, hunk of junk, _absolute literal garbage_ compared to the gleaming vessel you were about to embark on, hooked up to the tow rig in the back before he let you on board the big starship. On the inside it was less "gleaming hotrod" and more "college dorm room". He kicked a couple of cans out of the way as he positioned himself to stretch his arm out in a grand "welcome" gesture. You chuckled, hiking your bag over your shoulder as you walked around the place. You were vaguely aware of Peter climbing up to the cockpit and guiding her out of the port into open space as you poked around.

It was this odd mix of artifacts strewn around, some looked like they belonged in a scifi special and some looked like they jumped out of the 80s. There was a distinct feeling of which bits of detritus belonged to Peter, some feeling like it belonged to a whole set of completely different people of all shapes and sizes. Lots of guns, lots of mechanical parts, lots of shitty toys. Lots of literal garbage. A broken rubix cube was tucked in a corner.

You paced back up to the cockpit, watching the mysterious earthlings hands moving deftly on the controls. His shoulders jumped a little as you rested your head on the back of the chair near his head and he looked back at you and smiled a little. "Hey," you said.

"Hey," he replied.

"You got any music?"

His little smile grew into an earsplitting grin "Hell yea do I got music."

After positioning the ship out of the way of any well traveled paths he led you back into the main cabin, stopping to show you his old cassette player. You only vaguely recalled your parents using cassettes but you remembered them nonetheless. There was a tape in the deck, "Awesome mix vol. 1". He tells you he had two but some asshole fucked up the second one. He doesn't play it anymore but he keeps it in there as a memory. He takes it out and cradles it gingerly like a precious artifact.

"How old even are you?" you hope it's not a rude question but it's out of your mouth before you can think about it.

He isn't bothered. "Not sure, time's not the same up here. I wanna say early 30s? 33, 34 maybe? You?"

"Boy do I get that. I was 19 when I got taken and I... _think_ it's been at least three years since then so, 22? I missed the tape generation though for sure," you chuckle.

"I actually was given a new walkman by a buddy a little while ago, 'cept he called it a zune? I think it sounds like "zoo tune"." He smirks lopsidedly at you, proud of his joke, and you cant help but smile back. "It's got all the shit I used to listen to plus like.. other stuff by the same artists? And like.. _other_ artists? It's wild, I can put three _hundred_ songs on it but I haven't been able to find more of the right file format for a little while. I'd say _90_ songs is enough for now," he boasted, giving you a smarmy look.

You hold back completely blowing his mind with the storage on your modern smart phone for now and let him lead you back to what you can only presume is his room. It's small and utilitarian but cozy and Peter kicks off his boots and hangs his jacket on a hook before flopping over the bed on his stomach, reaching off to the wall to the left of the headboard and fumbling with his little mp3 player and what looked like an audio jack and speakers. He settled himself into a sitting position and looked up at you like he thinks he's about to blow your fucking mind and hit play on the device. You hear some piano chords for a moment but when the vocals came it you recognized it immediately: Rocket Man, Elton John.

It may not have been a song you listened to a whole lot back home but that's exactly what it was now. Home. Another piece of home. A piece of your past, a piece of your parents you left behind, of the planet where you were born. Peters eyes lit up as he saw your recognition.

"You know this? It's one of my new ones. I left earth with two mix tapes with like 15ish songs on each and I.. never even listened to the second one till about a couple years ago. Luckily Rocket and Gamora traded for mp3s of everything I had plus a lot more. It's honestly the best gift I've ever received..." Peter looked thoughtful for a moment, you could see memories like entire films playing out behind his eyes as he turned the little gadget over in his hands. You chuckled inwardly at the way "mp3" sounded foreign on his tongue.

"Hey wait.." you mused, as something dawned on you. "Rocket and Gamora.. like... _The_ Gamora? I know about her, she used to be involved with that tyrant Ronan but then she... you.." Your face shifted into something like disbelief. "You're not.. Peter as in Peter _Quill_ as in _Starlord_ are you?"

He looked up at you with a gentle smirk and winked, laying back on the bed with his arms behind his head, looking incredibly smug and shutting his eyes. "God _damn_ I love when people remember that name."

"Well.. This isn't something I thought would happen to me today." Your face split into a smile as you barked out a little laugh of surprise. "There's rumours about you for days man. Aren't you sort of an "asshole outlaw womanizer" kinda character?"

"Only if you want me to be," He looked at you through half lidded eyes and a grin tugged at one corner of his lips, a little flash of canine tooth, which earned a chuckle and an eye roll from you.

You unzipped your boots and climbed up to sit next to him, leaning over him to pick up his zune and inspect it. It looked beat up and old to you but you were sure to him it must look downright futuristic. You placed it back on the nightstand and fished in your bag for a moment before retrieving your phone, opening spotify and extending it to him. Peter took it from you carefully, like he was holding something precious, looking up at you utterly lost but curious.

"How do I do it? Is this like a holoscreen where you can just touch it..?" he trailed off

You nodded, "Yea, just look through them. I haven't counted but I have way more than 300. They're from pretty much every era too, all the way up to 2014. But.. I wanna hear yours first okay?" He looked up at you and this time you were sure he was tearing up.

"You.. you still listened to Cat Stevens in 2014?"

"My mom used to play me the songs from when she was young, so of course I still love a lot of them."

His shoulders rose and fell with a few deep, shaky breaths and he covered his eyes with his arm as his shoulders shook a little. He was smiling, though, as he clutched your phone to his chest, overwhelmed. To admit it, you were overwhelmed too. How incredible to find possibly the only other human in the galaxy off earth. You laid down next to him on your side as a softer song came one, introducing itself with some gorgeous guitar harmonies. You took his free arm in your hand and he flinched for a moment before relaxing into it.

This was.. incredibly peaceful. You felt really good. You could tell he did too, watching his pupils focus on the patterns on the ceiling, saw his chest rise with his breath, watched his fingers tap along to the rhythms. Music was in this man's blood and you were so glad you had that in common. It was a natural transition to finding your head resting on his shoulder, arm splayed over his chest. ("Jesus _____," you thought, "You're not even that drunk, you're barely even tipsy, you have no excuse.") But still you tapped along with him, fingers dancing over his sternum.

You also took a moment to realize something that wasn't high on your priority of finding out when you first met him which was that he was fucking built. He came across as a big dude but you couldn't tell if it was muscle or fat from a distance. With your hips pressed into his side and your head nestled right up against him you could tell it was a soft combination of both. He got like this from constant effort just to survive, you inferred. You had started developing a similar type of build only on a much smaller, shittier scale. When a body doesn't know when it will eat next it hangs on to what it can.

It was after a few songs had gone by that you realized he had wrapped his arm around behind you and was gently stroking your hip with this thumb with the rhythm of a much slower song that had come on. His lips moved along with the lyrics, perfect down to every syllable, and your heart jumped. Was this really something you were considering?

You shifted yourself up to lean on his chest, looking down at him. He looked almost.. somber. Melancholy, a little lost, a little happy, grateful.. He took a slow, deep breath that you took in tandem.

"Peter?", you began, leaning in. Your lips didn't have time to finish closing before his own were on yours, soft as anything, like he didn't quite believe you were real, like you might disappear if he pushed it too far. Part of yourself told you to pull away, laugh it off, put on some dance music and tell him to bring you to Nova. You didn't do any of that. You sucked on his lower lip, slow and insistent, and pulled him on top of you, his hands all over your body. He followed through with your lead, his expression turning roguish, hungry. His hands were hooked under your shirt when your brain did a 360 for a moment.

"Woah! Woah, woah hey uh-" He froze dead in his tracks, looking bewildered and concerned. God, he was sweet too. "No, no it's okay just.. I thought like.. you and Gamora were a thing? Am I remembering that right? Aren't you like a "space celebrity power couple" or something?" You held your hand over his, reassuring. "I don't wanna mess anything like that up, dude, even if we are the only Terrans out here."

He took a moment, looking a little contrite and fairly downtrodden, introspecting. You made a face in sympathy, an " _okay, yea I get it I'm sorry"_ but he shook his head. "It's sort of an on and off thing and she's, surprisingly, really not the jealous type. I doubt she'd mind and like.. _anyway_ ," he gave you a cocky glance, running his hands up your sides, "It's not like she ever has to know."

You shot back a stern but teasing glare, play-slapping at his hand. " _Peter._." you warned, which got you a chuckle.

"No, but seriously, I know she wouldn't mind. She's a cool girl, she's allowed to do her stuff, I'm allowed to do mine. We talked it out, everything's good."

You hesitated but he sounded sincere. "If you say so man."

"Hell yea. I... wanna take this slow though okay? It's.. It's actually been a little while for me," he admitted, sheepishly. Your gut sinks a little.

" _I_.. haven't really been with anyone since I left earth. So, yeah, slow would be nice," You giggle a little and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down against you, hoping this doesn't change his mind. Surprisingly it absolutely does not. His lips graze your neck, the stubble on his chin brushing against you, making your skin prickle up. You feel like maybe he's needed this just as bad as you have.

"You're soft.." He mumbles into your neck, his hands cupping your ass to lift your hips up to meet his. You could feel he was already half hard through his pants. You occupied your own hands by hooking your thumbs under the sides of his tshirt, feeling his warm, soft, _human_ skin against your palms as he kissed and nipped at your ear. The tips of your fingers trace scars, patterns in his muscle, your mind going a little hazy. The music was still softly humming and your heart was going a million miles an hour when you felt him grind down between your legs and your breath caught in your throat. He let out a soft, relaxed breath against your neck.

This is really happening, you thought to yourself. You were about to bang a Guardian of the Galaxy. To be honest, it meant little to you. Sure you knew about them, everyone did, but right now he was just a sweet guy who helped you out of a tough spot. He helped _himself_ by pushing more fervently between your legs, like an impatient boy, and you gave a breathless laugh.

"Are you gonna grind on me like a teenager all night or are we gonna lose some layers like adults, _Starlord_?" You felt him half chuckle half shudder at that. God, maybe he liked that name a little more than you thought.

"Fuck, uh.. yea yes, anything you want," he caught his breath and leaned back, beginning to tug his shirt over his head before you tap-tapped his arm to get his attention.

"Hey, what does that say? I don't recognize that language," you tilted your head, curious.

His face lit up with absolute mischief as he carefully grabbed two points on the shirt, lifting them to meet each other and you both lost your shit when he did. "It's the perfect shirt! You get to _choose_ when to be a jackass!" he exclaimed, as you nodded through near tearful laughter.

He came down from his outburst and removed his shirt the rest of the way and you took in the view, giving him a little whistle. He play-frowned back at you. "Hey! Admission to the gun show isn't free, you know." You could feel he was barely constraining a laugh at his admittedly _bad_ joke and you begrudged him his return fee as he fumbled with his belt. After unzipping your jacket and maneuvering yourself out of it you pulled your tank top over your head, tossing the jacket off to the side.

He picked it up while you struggled out of your sports bra, eyes bright again. You quickly learned his smile was absolutely contagious. A biohazard really, shouldn't let it out, everyone might catch it. "Holy shit this is a jacket? I thought it was like a jumpsuit or something, it's fucking awesome. Where did you get i-" his voice cracked a little when he looked back to see you half naked, swallowing audibly and tossing the jacket over his shoulder. "Cool jacket, _this_ is cooler.." he said almost to himself as you sat up, making a show of shimmying out of your pants with your back to him, looking back to see his mouth agape and his cock twitch in his underwear. You left your bottoms on, like him, climbing into his lap to hook your legs around his waist and drape your arms over his shoulders.

His breath came in gentle huffs as you met his eyes. It was like he was trying _really_ hard to restrain himself, looking back and forth between your face and your chest. You made the decision for him, pushing him back by his shoulders and taking both his hands to cup your breasts. He let out a single, breathless, huff of laughter at that, like he couldn't fucking believe it. You lowered yourself down until you come to rest lying on top of him. The bare skin of your chests was pressed together and you were kissing again, teeth and tongue and fingers tangled in hair.

In your exploration you touched something hard and metallic behind his ear and he looked surprised for a moment before giving you a knowing look and touching a button, unfurling the thing into a sick looking mask.

"That is certainly a look," you chuckled.

"Oh, it's iconic for sure. Added benefit is people know the mask not the face," the mask retracted as he pushed the same button, leaning up to give you a quick kiss before he took it off. "Also helps me like.. breathe. In space and stuff." He carefully set it on the night stand before getting back into it with you, thumbs circling your hip bones and lips on your neck, collarbones, ears, lips.

After a few blissful moments of this, making out to what you could almost discern as Bowie's Star Man in the background, you pulled up for air, brushing bangs out of your eyes. Peter's face was priceless, flushed and breathless, hair mussed as he ran his hands, rough and warm and sure, over your thighs and mouthed "please". His hips bucked, barely under his control, against your ass and you scooted back to position his clothed dick between your legs, giving him a soft smirk as you ground rhythmically on top of him. Apparently desperate for any kind of friction, his head tilted back as he let out the first genuine moan of the night and you were proud of your handy work. Your hands splayed out over his belly and hips and you sighed, reveling in the feeling as well. Turns out you weren't as out of practice as you thought.

His little bed shifted under the two of you as you shifted back onto your back and he, carefully, sweetly, so gently, pulled your underwear down and tossed them away before hopping off the bed and nearly stumbling out of his own in his hurry to get back to you. What a dork, you thought. What a hot dork.

You bit your lip when he rested his cock between your legs, the head facing your stomach. It was nice, you could probably take it without too much trouble, you thought to yourself. He must have picked up on your introspection and pouted a little, embarrassed.

"C'mon it's not _that_ small.. right??" You reached down, wrapping your hand around it and giving it a little squeeze.

"No it's fine! Like.. I dunno I was just anxious you might be too big for me? You're a big dude." His face was practically beet red by this point and he leaned over you, burying his face in your neck and whining.

"Don't do this to me ____," he pleaded with you, and you huffed through your nose, running your hands over his back.

"Don't worry, _Starlord_ ," you infused a gentle mocking tone into the name but you could tell he adored it anyway. "I think this will probably work out perfectly."

"Fuckin.. _don't_ call me that until I can fuck you properly," he groaned, kissing the side of your neck before grabbing a little jar of.. something, from the side table. He dipped a finger in, revealing some blueish iridescent waxy looking stuff and carefully wiped it over the head of his cock. You watched, transfixed, as the gentle colour spread over the length of it before turning transparent.

"Holy shit.. space condoms are awesome," you remarked softly.

"Glad I didn't have to deal with earth ones I guess," He chuckled, tracing his fingers over the curve of your hips, cupping a breast and softly thumbing the nipple. "Hey.. you sure you wanna do this? We sorta just met and you're much younger than me.. I mean, I used to do stuff like this all the time, with strangers, with pretty girls I met in bars. To be completely honest, doing shit like that was how I got a couple of _these_ bad boys," he said, gesturing to a scattering of puckered scars on his abdomen, "But I.. I dunno. I don't want this to be like that, y'know? I want to treat you right, not use you."

You couldn't believe he was rambling about this when you could _feel_ him resting hot and twitching against your thigh, when you'd gotten this far into it.

"And, y'know, also for you to not stab me."

You chuckled and cupped the side of his face, taking him aback, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb and leading him down closer to you.

"Peter.. I understand. You feel like something special to me too, we're pieces of a planet we may never see again, that's.. that's incredible," you kissed him and it was more familiar now. You nipped his lip. "And we're both consenting adults in the middle of the vast expanse of space in a sickass starship and I want you to _fucking nail me into this bed like there's no tomorrow_ okay?"

He laughed, openly, giddy as he nearly picked you straight up, pushing your back against the headboard and quickly but carefully aligning himself and pushing into you. A little warming up would have been nice but he probably was either not used to doing that or too excited to think of it. Either way you were soaked enough that you yielded easily.

You both grabbed for each other, finding hair, hips, hands to hold onto for purchase as he thrust into you a few times, experimenting. Your hand was slapped over your mouth, certain you would scream otherwise, but once he settled into a gentle pace you found yourself relaxing against him, getting used to the friction, to the insistent ryhthm of his hips against yours. Peter was busying himself groping your ass and sucking what you assumed would end up a sizable hickey into your collarbone. You felt like he was sort of flying by the seat of his pants, and then you felt like, maybe, that's just how he lived his whole life.

Then the song changed and you heard him go "mm!" in a sort of excited tone before pulling back, panting. "This is one of my old ones! Go All the Way, it's by The Raspberries, apparently their other stuff isn't as good but this guitar lick is-" You put a stopper in his excited rant by tugging his hips flush with yours using your legs as leverage. You felt him bottom out completely inside you and he gasped, ragged, fingers digging into your hip bones.

"Come onnn, fuck me.." you whispered, throwing your arms behind his neck and arching your back against him. "Starlord, please.." You forced it to be genuine, not teasing this time. Apparently that was all he needed to shut up and do as you said, fiercely thrusting into you with near perfect rhythm, obviously something he had a knack for.

As lost as he was in the whole ordeal he still didn't shut up, moaning out praise ("You're so good, you're perfect, you feel so good") and pantign against you. He held your hip with one hand, bracing himself with the other as he kissed and nipped up your jawline. You tangled and combed your fingers through his wavy, golden hair and just fucking held on.

As he got closer and closer to the edge his hips got sloppier in their movements, switching between jerking hard and then barely at all. You let yourself cry out this time when you felt his movements unhindered, running your nails down his back desperately. He came with a soft, hitched cry and you could feel him trying _so hard_ to be gentle with you as he shuddered, twitching inside you. He dropping his head against your chest and panted for a moment, drawing ragged breaths. You kissed the top of his head. You didn't want this to end. Luckily you didn't come yet so it didn't have to.

"Peter.." you whined a little, pleading with your eyes. He looked up at you and you could tell he was exhausted but his eyes lit up with recognition and before you could say another word his head was between your legs, pleasing you with as much fervor as he could muster. "Oh fuck yea.. _Goood_ yes.." Your hands grabbed at his hair, tugging a little more harshly than you meant which only elicited a moan from him. Something you'd keep in mind for a potential next time. It didn't take long for him to finish you off, your body shivering hard as you came, hips rutting against his mouth.

The air was still, a little stale but cool and gentle as you both remained where you had fallen, Quill's head resting against your thigh with a fucked out smile on his face and your hand still absently petting at his hair. Eventually he groaned sleepily, kissed your thigh in parting and dragged himself up to take care of fuck knows. You stretched, smiling softly, and turned onto your side to watch him. You saw him toss something into a garbage bin in the corner (god know why he even had it, the floor was already covered in refuse) and then fish around for an empty water flask, pushing it into a divot in the wall to be filled. The water trickled in painfully slowly as he scratched at his messy hair and you admired the scratch marks down his back, touched the bruise on your shoulder. You made yourself useful by fishing around over the corner of the bed for the blanket you two had kicked off at some point and wrapping yourself in it, raising the corner for Peter to climb in with you.

Only after he got settled did he realize Elvin Bishop wasn't exactly the best soundtrack to sleep with and reached blindly to unplug his zune from the aux cord. When silence filled the room the world felt small again, for a moment. The universe felt as far away as when you were taken from earth as a teenager. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck and breathed in and you thought you could smell the grass back home, the air in the forest, warm and alive. Your legs tangled together, your softly breathing forms pressed flush, like if you parted you would lose the moment.

Peter was combing his fingers through your hair, touching your neck, lips pressed to your forehead, and you thought maybe you could be glad you ended up out here. You were glad and safe and bitter and aching and you weren't sure which way you needed to feel. There were no windows down here. You pretended you were home as you drifted off in each others arms.

 

~~~~~~

 

You woke up to the pressure of someone much bigger than you wrapped around you and you instinctually jerked in surprise, spooking Peter awake. You felt him start violently too, hand shooting fruitlessly to his hip before his body relaxed again. He'd reached for a gun out of reflex, you thought. Quill mumbled something unintelligible and surprised through the lingering the haze of sleep and snuggled you tighter to him like a big stuffed animal. His noises turned warm and happy as he nuzzled back against you and he was asleep again almost immediately. You didn't stop being surprised though. You were absolutely certain that Starlord, the legendary outlaw, would have left you in a cold bed as soon as you were asleep. He would drop you off without a word and you'd never see him again. You wondered if this was usual for him.

"Peter.. hey.. Quill," you whispered, shimmying your arm from his grip and lightly shaking his shoulder. He grumbled louder this time, squeezing you so tight you thought you might break before letting up and rolling onto his back, stretching languidly, muscles curling under his skin. "Hey.. thanks for staying."

He sat up, looking back at you a little befuddled, eyes still mostly closed, "'S'my ship."

"I know it's your ship, dork, I meant like.. here with me."

He shook himself free of the last clinging tendrils of sleep with a shiver and got up, wandering over to a pile of laundry in the corner and digging around. He seemed to find something he was looking for but after pressing it to his nose he shook his head, bewildered, and tossed it back before repeating the process. You stifled a laugh. You would judge him if you didn't do the same thing. After he was dressed, he helpfully gathered your discarded clothes from their various resting places, tossing the pile to you.

"I didn't take you for a gentleman, Starlord," you mentioned, dressing yourself as you spoke. You saw him give you a genuinely hurt look for just a moment before chuckling.

"I'm not, really," He sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his bag and repacking it, starting to stick his zune into a little pouch on the outside of it. "I wouldn't normally've stayed but, t'be fair, I really needed the sleep, and like.." He sighed, running his fingers over the edges of the little device. He was still waking up. He must have felt really comfortable with you. 

You scooted up, resting against his back, feeling the cool red leather of his jacket against your cheek. "I get it.. we're sort of a rare breed," you smiled. "I haven't felt less homesick since I've been around you since I was.. well, since I was home."

"It's only been a few years for you.. it's been, like, 26 for me. I was just a kid. And honestly I thought I had gotten over missing earth. I've been out here _way_ longer than I was ever there, the galaxy, _this ship_ really is more my home than earth ever was.." He sighed, deep and rough as he slipped the mp3 player into his bag. "You.. make me homesick again. But you also.. feel like home? Just a little."

You were a little taken aback, surprised he would talk about something like this with you, a near stranger. But, you thought to yourself, he was right.

"Peter... earth is cool, but the galaxy is fucking awesome. You know that and I know that. I'm glad you ran into me, I'm glad we got to have this, but you're right. Out here is home now. That little ship tied to your tow hook is _my_ home, shitty as it is. And I don't think we should be focusing on the fact that we're both humans, that we're both from earth, but the fact that we're both humans from earth who now do _incredible sick stunts in space_ ," you had shifted yourself to sit next to him now and you rested your head on his shoulder, adding some warmth into your voice, "Granted, _some_ stunts are exponentially sicker than others."

When you looked up at his face you saw he was a little misty eyed again, something you also assumed wasn't normal for him. You felt almost guilty. You wanted this to be a fun night with a cute stranger, not a sad, weird, almost-reunion with a guy with whom the only thing you had in common was the same planet of origin. If you remembered right it came out that he wasn't even entirely human which didn't particularly matter to you. Peter chuckled, hooking his bag over his shoulder. "Yea.." he sniffed, rubbing the back of his arm over his face and taking a deep breath, catching himself before any real tears could show themselves, "My stunts are definitely way cooler. No offense."

He gave you his trademark puppydog smile and you pushed his arm playfully, getting up and hopping backwards a little, ready to get moving. "Come on Starlord, let's get this ship to Nova. There's no way I'm not getting autographs out of this." You grinned cheekily and he ruffled your hair as he passed you on his way to the bridge.

"Keep calling me Starlord and I might even be able to talk Gamora into it too."


End file.
